


Cause it's too cold

by Everyusernmeisgone



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Exile, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Flashbacks, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghostbur, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Memories, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Platonic Relationships, Protective Wilbur Soot, Recovered Memories, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Snow, Song: Sweater Weather (The Neighbourhood), Tommy exile arc, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Tragedy, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, hope you cry xoxo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyusernmeisgone/pseuds/Everyusernmeisgone
Summary: "Find him." Long forgotten instincts whisper."Why?" the ghost asks."He needs you - hurry."Recommended song to listen to while reading : Sweater Weather
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	Cause it's too cold

**_‘Cause it’s too cold’_ **

Vision obscured by the whirling winds whipping at his pale visage, the ghost trudged onwards, his voice lost to the howls of the night. Spectral hands clutched tight against his chest, his body not feeling the cold but old muscle memory remembering the chill that used to seep into the bone. Twisting towers loomed above casting shadows of monstrous figures across the pure white snow. The darkness of the raging night enveloped the area, caging it in a field of icy fury. And yet, the spectre ploughed through it all. Paying no mind to the thunder, giving no thought to the snow. A single name reverberating around his brain, driving him to keep going despite the burning touch of the rain.

**_‘For you here and now’_ **

Why was he so determined to find him? The ghost couldn’t understand exactly why but some deeper part of his brain was urging him to keep searching. He had to find him. There was no logical explanation for it that he could think of but out of nowhere, while he was strolling through L’manberg with Friend an overwhelming wave of panic had seized him. A long-forgotten instinct had grabbed a tight hold of him and screamed ‘find him - find Tommy’. It had been so intense, so sudden and strong that he had felt he had to obey. It whispered to him with every step, “he needs you - hurry.” So hurry he did. Brain overtook by fear he had run out of the country without a single word of explanation to anyone. His running had only slowed when he hit snow-covered ground to which he was forced to cease running to walk carefully through the white-coated terrain instead. 

He could feel the burning sensation as each drop of rain made contact with his ashen skin. It hurt - oh it absolutely hurt and with every flurry of snow that melted on his body his pain only increased. He should turn back. Get out of the terrible weather - but he won’t. Still following that demanding instinct he refused to seek shelter when every part of his brain was telling him something horrible would happen if he gave up. 

It was so dark though - ever so dark and the ghost could swear he felt a shiver of the bitter cold run down his spine. No animals were in sight for they had all burrowed into their homes when the first sign of winter’s wrath had shown. The haunting chill hung in the air as the storm raged through.

Questions lacking answers ran through his mind. What could have happened to Tommy and why was the spectre feeling so… protective? It was an odd word to use but it seemed to fit, yes, the ghost felt protective of the blond boy for whatever reason. It’s not like he disliked the kid, they’d been doing lads on tour together after all! But Ghostbur had always felt strange around Tommy - the child acted chaotic and loud around everyone and yes he was still chaotic with the ghost but there were moments where the ghostly man would catch the blond staring at him, a lost and desperate look in his eyes that tugged on his heartstrings. In those moments he would feel the urge to reach out, to hold him close and whisper soft reassurances to this broken child who had been through too much for one so young. He did none of that though and it felt oh so wrong to turn away but he did. Those moments of vulnerability felt wrong. To see one normally so loud and bold look so hurt and pained didn’t feel right. It was easier to pretend he’d seen nothing - to be the oblivious happy ghost as normal. It was lucky he didn’t need to sleep because he was so sure that the sight of an agonisingly lost Tommy would haunt his dreams at night. 

**_‘So let me hold’_ **

The air was getting colder now, the falling frost burying into ghostly skin and creating a burning chill. It was hot but it was cold too which was strange considering he hadn’t felt the effects of the weather before; his spirit usually remained untouched by the winter chill and yet now he could feel the climbing cold as it burrowed into his bones. Every splash of rain hitting against him burned and sizzled, the fiery ache tearing at his core. While simultaneously, the screaming winds raged and bit at his limbs with icy fury - leaking a frozen poison into his veins. Some nights, when the stars shone up high, glinting in the night sky, the ghost had peered up at them and wondered what magical sights they had seen over their years; oh what a pitiful sight he must make to those stars now. 

Stumbling steps grew wearier as the agonizing burn of the rain worked wickedly with the sharp sting of the night winds to drag him further into pained exhaustion. Hurtling down from above, like a wretched gift from a merciless deity, a raindrop struck into his eye creating a tortuous blaze that forced him to his knees. As his legs hit the snow below and the water seeped in, he looked up past the swirling storm, past the crashing thunder and gazed upon the twinkling stars once again. He had always found comfort in the stars and he hoped that they would still ease him now. They shone so bright, so bright they lit up the sky, so bright they lifted a room, so bright he wanted to protect them?

_ “Look, Wilbur! Look! Look!” He heard the familiar voice call his name and turned to spot the source, standing in the field only a few paces ahead, was Tommy. Tommy was grinning and waving something in the air like a madman. “Wilbur I did it! I finally got it!” He felt a fond smile lift his lips and he began to walk towards the younger boy, “Let me see then.”  _

_ The blond boy stopped his manic waving and he was able to see what it was that Tommy was so excited about. In the child’s hands sat a small flower crown made of daisies and buttercups. A few petals were missing from the flowers and the craftsmanship was admittedly sloppy but it was so clearly ‘Tommy’ and so he adored it. “Tubbo showed me last week how to do it but I kept messing it up but look! I’ve got it!”  _

_ “You sure did Tommy.” He reached down and ruffled the child's hair to which Tommy protested as he always did but still leaned into the touch with a small smile. When he stopped his actions the young blond looked at the ground seemingly hesitant about something but when he made up his mind a determined glint filled his blue eyes. “Wilbur,” Tommy spoke, “I want you to have it.” An overwhelming wave of fondness flooded through him, the boy could be so loud and brash but he could also be so kind and thoughtful that it astounded Wilbur. When he hadn’t answered for a few seconds Tommy seemed to backtrack, “if you don’t want it then fine you don’t deserve my absolute art bitch.” A chuckle escaped his lips as he smiled at the boy, “of course I want it Toms, it’s beautiful.”  _

_ He gently took the delicate creation from Tommy’s hands and lay it upon his head. It sat softly on his hair, the flowers poking at his curls. At seeing his work deposited on Wilburs head Tommy smiled wide - a blindingly bright smile that Wilbur adored. It was the smile of sunshine and stars - a smile that Wilbur swore to protect. The smile of his little brother-  _

His what? Where had that come from? He’d never seen this memory before and yet that had to be what it was - a memory. But if it was a memory then… it made a painful amount of sense. Why Tommy had always looked at him differently, why he felt the urge to protect him, why he’d run out into the snow - he had a little brother. He had a brother and he’d forgotten him. 

_ ‘I’m gonna be just like you when I grow up!” _

How could he have forgotten?

_ “Woah that’s so cool!! You’re like the Beatles but one man!” _

His baby brother who he loved so dearly.

_ “Wilby!” _

His brother who he’d hurt.

He remembered now - he remembered it all. The war, the election, the explosion - oh god the explosion. But most importantly, he remembered how he’d treated Tommy; the way his own insanity had gripped his mind and caused him to lash out at his brother, to hurt him. Never had he thought he would become so twisted that he would hurt even his own brother. What had he done? 

He had to fix this. He needed to apologize. He needed to - with his new clarity of mind, a horrifying realisation overtook him. His mind had cleared with the newly returned memories and suddenly he could see the truth of it all. Manipulation was a game Wilbur was familiar with, he’d never been the best fighter and so he’d perfected the art of words instead. Twisting and turning words was all too easy for him and that allowed him to recognize other players of the wretched game. Dream, that bastard, had been playing with his brother like a wolf before dinner. Moments that had seemed innocent before were suddenly cruel moves of a sadistic puppeteer. The armour, the dependence, the blatant lies to the child - it was all a wicked game of control. Now more than ever his brother needed him and by god was he determined to be there. Forcing icy hands to crawl forward he tried desperately to gain momentum. His legs and palms were burning and every movement was excruciating. It felt like his blood was on fire - blazing in an unforgiving pit of acid. 

Coughing and choking he only managed to make it a few more feet, to the point where he could see a break in the trees. Fingers frozen in the snow yet burning inside he found he couldn’t crawl anymore. Angry tears ran down his pale cheeks, he just wanted to find his brother but the searing sensation was overwhelming his senses in a hellish way. He could feel his limbs begin to shut down and at that moment he was afraid. Not for himself but for Tommy who had been through war, who had been exiled by his best friend and was now being toyed with by a cruel wannabe god. If he died here - whatever you call it when a ghost perishes - who would be there for Tommy? It was a torturous thought that hurt more than the poisonous rain. 

_ “Wilbur?” _

_ “Yeah, Toms?” _

_ “I love you.” _

The spectre could feel his eyes beginning to fall shut despite his efforts to fight it. He tried to focus on what he could see in the distance - trees, stars and a pillar of stone loomed ahead. The falling snow began to pile on top of his ghostly form blanketing his body in a suffocating layer of icy pain. What looked so sweet - so pure and innocent, was drowning him and eating away at his heart. As his exhaustion hit a boiling point and his started to shut, he took a last look at the sky; the stars shone down only obscured slightly by the towering pillar of stone where an indescribable shape stood peering down. Feeling began to fade and breaths sputtered weakly out of his lips. It was such a pretty sky tonight.

_ “I love you too Tommy.” _

**_‘Both your hands in the holes of my sweater.’_ **

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you cried xoxo  
> Love y'all


End file.
